Kendra showed up to happy hour late with John in tow on Wednesday and I was really annoyed. Happy hour is our chance to talk about guys, not hang out with them. The three of us got tapas and beer and started talking. Well, the two of them did. They started talking about people I don’t know so I pretended to be listening for a little while then I pulled out my phone and started texting. I decided that since apparently we were inviting our men to happy hour I was going to invite Brady too. He said that he was wrapping up a few last minute things but he would be there in thirty to forty five minutes. I love how accessible he is sometimes.

Just when I was considering gouging my eyes out with a fork, Brady showed up. I squealed and threw my arms around him when he showed up next to our table. We had just seen each other the day before, but whatever.

“Hi Brady,” Kendra said as he sat down.

It occurred to me that Kendra and Brady actually haven’t had much interaction except drunken bar nights.

Brady ordered a beer and we all started talking. Brady and John started talking about their jobs since they both work in hospitals. They were off in their own little world and I couldn’t break Brady away. I wanted to tell him how well a meeting went at work, but whenever I tried to pull him away from his new boyfriend, he would turn and smile and pat my knee like I’m some sort of impatient child.

Finally I excused myself to go to the restroom and dragged Kendra with me.

“Why is your boyfriend moving in on my boyfriend?” I demanded.

“I don’t know. I think they’re getting along nicely,” she said, reapplying her red lipstick.

“Well, it’s super inconsiderate that John is talking his ear off and I haven’t even had a chance to tell him about my day,” I said.

“Honestly, you should be happy they are getting along and you can bring Brady around your friends. We can do triple dates with Carly and Chris!” she enthused.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “I don’t want to do triple dates with y’all. I’m an adult.”

“You’re such a fucking brat, Reese,” she said and walked out of the bathroom.

The evening went on and Brady and John became instant BFFs. I was irritated, but I did enjoy seeing Brady talk to someone who is on his same wavelength and can talk with him about glucosamine and the metabolization of alcohol. It was pretty cute hearing him talk like that.

After happy hour, Brady came over. I dug out my pack of birthday cake Oreos and we sat on the couch eating them and watching Teen Mom 2. I finally got a chance to tell Brady about the exciting meeting and what I’ve been doing at work.

“I really like how passionate you are about your work,” he said. 

When he said that I realized that work is the only thing I am really passionate about. Well that and drinking. Brady is passionate about his work too, but he also likes to run (he told me he’s running a marathon in a few months. Didn’t invite me though, surprise!), and travel to other countries to help people, and other things that make him an all around good person. I really need to get some hobbies.

On Thursday, I had a meeting with a watercolor artist who I found on Pinterest/Etsy. I thought her paintings would be super cute in thick white frames and also printed on pillows. The girl was kind of greasy and smelled odd and was only interested in how much money she could make. I mean, I get it, but it just kind of left a bad taste in my mouth.

After work, I went to Brady’s. Can you believe I’m not tired of him yet? We’ve hung out everyday for the past few weeks. I’m pretty sure this is some kind of record. Chris was at work so Brady and I made drinks (ice, tequila, splash of Sprite, lime) and watched a movie in the basement. Brady made us each another cup after we finished and at that point I was pretty tipsy. We decided to play a drinking card game with our new drinks and as you can probably expect, I lost badly.

“Fuck this game,” I said, swiping the table so all the cards went flying.

Brady smirked at me with low eyes. “Poor sport.”

I flicked him off and went to the wet bar to make another drink.

“Get better at card games then you won’t have to worry about losing,” he called from the couch.

I tossed a piece of ice at him and hit him right in the back of the head. Before I could celebrate my victory, Brady was up and barreling toward me. I screamed and ran, but he caught me by my shirt and yanked me back. He pushed me against the granite counter so my back was to him.

“You want to play with ice, huh?” he taunted. 

I felt a cold ice cube on the middle of my back and I shrieked. Brady ran it up my spine and stopped at the back of my neck. I was shivering and squealing involuntarily and trying to slip away, but Brady had me pinned with his body.

“Let me go,” I whined just as he rolled the ice cube down my lower back.

“What? You are the one who wanted to do this,” he said innocently.

I reached behind me to try to claw him away, but Brady grabbed my wrist hard and slammed it back on the counter. He leaned down and kissed my neck really softly despite him trying to break my wrist just seconds before.

I let out some sort of moan/grunt and realized I was really, really turned on. I love aggressive Drunk Brady.

“Are you going to apologize?” he asked. 

I didn’t know if apologizing would make it stop and I didn’t know if I even wanted it to so I didn’t say anything.

Brady put another cold cube on the back of my neck and kept it in the same spot until it started to drip down and make me numb. He leaned down and licked the dripping water up and started sucking my neck. He pushed his hips into me so I could feel his boner. Literally almost orgasmed right there.

“Just say you’re sorry, Reese,” he said in my ear as he ran another ice cube down my back. 

Between his weight pushing me against the counter, the sensation of the cold ice cube and the fact that I was so turned on, I couldn’t seem to catch my breath.

When I didn’t say anything, Brady pulled my shorts down and put an ice cube on my butt cheek. I couldn’t help giggling.

“I’m…sorry,” I finally gasped.

“Are you?”

I heard his belt and then he rammed into me and started thrusting hard, a lot harder than usual, but I liked it. He grabbed a fistful of my hair with one hand and used the other to steady my hip while he plowed into me. Brady was going so much harder than usual like he was genuinely mad at me for throwing ice at him.

After that, we got dressed and fell asleep on the couch and didn’t wake up until the morning.